We're Not Going to Take It
by CharmedMummy
Summary: Enough is enough and we're not going to take it anymore.  A oneshot that is part of my Everything Old is New Again series, but which also addresses another issue entirely: plagiarism.


**AN:** This particular story was inspired by something that happened to me recently here at our very own FF. A very kind person alerted me to the fact that some person (who shall remain nameless) had the audacity to plagiarize one of my stories word for word, essentially copying and pasting it and claiming it as their own.

Needless to say, that didn't make me very happy. What _did_ make me happy was the outpouring of support from several corners, chief among them my wonderful betas **Kerry Blue** and **printandpolish** and the fine people over at the DLC boards who expressed outrage over the incident before they even knew me.

So, I dedicate this story to those fine people because they have been my Stella and Tessa. Also, I dedicate this to the other authors who were plagiarized, some from the _CSI:NY_ fandom and others from the _CSI_ fandom. If you would like to support the authors whose works were plagiarized, some of them have consented to letting me post their names and the titles of their stolen works here: **CSI-4077**'s story "You Owe Me A Kiss" and **forensicfan**'s "Battle for the Remote," both Sara/Nick fics in the _CSI_ fandom, were plagiarized as well as "Out of the Closet" by **StarDustShadows** and "Why Love Exists"by **brown-eyed cutie production55** in the _CSI:NY_ fandom. I highly recommend reading their original stories rather than the blatant copies that someone tried to pass of as their own.

This story does fit as part of my "Everything Old is New Again" series, but one can easily be enjoy it without having read anything else that I have written. 

**Disclaimer:** Unlike a plagiarizer, I fully acknowledge that I do not own _CSI:NY_ in any way, shape or form, nor the title of this fic which comes from the Twisted Sister song (see my profile for a full disclaimer on the titles I borrow from songs). I merely take inspiration from it and try my best to entertain myself and others with what comes out of my head. I only lay claim to my OCs and my plots, everything else belongs to other people and while I might usually make a light comment here about how I would love to own a piece of _CSI:NY_ (and definitely wouldn't turn down the opportunity if it arose!), I want to take this opportunity to thank TPTB that gave us all such wonderful characters and stories to build off of and inspire us and I give them all the kudos in the world for creating something that so many people enjoy.

* * *

"Hold it right there, Sheldon." Hawkes slowly turned away from the break room counter to face his colleague. 

"Uh, is everything okay, Lindsay?" That tone was not one he had often heard directed at him from Lindsay. Actually, he didn't think she had ever talked to him like that before. Danny, sure, and even Flack, but not Hawkes.

"Not if that mug in your hand is holding the last of the coffee."

Sheldon winced. "Well, it is, but I would be glad to give it to you since you seem to need it even more than I do."

Lindsay blew out a harsh breath and set down the files she was holding. "No, that's okay. I'm sorry for snapping, I'm just having a crappy day."

"Stuck on a case?" Hawkes inquired as he turned back to the counter to finish starting the next pot of coffee. Woe to those who finished one pot of the coveted black brew without starting another.

"Not exactly stuck. Sifting through a haystack the size of Manhattan for the all important needle is more like it. My DB this morning was found in a seedy motel room. Do you know how many fingerprints there are in a seedy motel room?"

Sheldon smiled in sympathy as he walked over to the table Lindsay had plopped herself down at. He knew all too well how annoying a scene like that could be. Even if you struck gold and had a suspect after the first dozen or so fingerprints, you had to run every single one you found because if the case eventually went to trial, even a marginally competent defense attorney would jump on any undocumented fingerprints at the crime scene. Wordlessly, Sheldon reached into his lunch bag, retrieved the Snickers bar he had been planning on having for dessert, and slid it to Lindsay.

Her eyes lit up and she gratefully took the chocolate bar. "I think I could kiss you right now, Sheldon."

Hawkes grinned. "Somehow I think your husband might have something to say about that."

Lindsay Messer grinned back unrepentantly. "He might. And so might your girlfriend."

"Very true. Together Tess and Danny could be a formidable team. He would know how to get rid of me without leaving any evidence and then even if he did ever become a suspect, Tessa could represent him." Contessa Morgan handled mostly white collar crime and not things like murder, but she _was_ a defense attorney, so the joke still worked.

Lindsay laughed. "Oh, Sheldon, I needed that, thank you." She bit into the candy bar. "This is the first nice thing to happen to me today. My morning started off with three cranky kids that I had to deal with on my own because Danny pulled a double. Then I pull the motel body I mentioned which not only has generated mountains of work for me, but stunk to high heaven as well because the woman had paid several days in advance, put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door, and the hotel in general smelled so bad that nobody noticed the stench of decomposing flesh. To top it off, I come in and there's no more coffee."

"Here," Sheldon said, handing over the journal he had brought in to read over his lunch. "Try looking at something that has nothing to do with your case. Meanwhile, let me look at your case notes so far and see what I can take off your hands. I'm having a slow day, so I might be able to run some stuff for you."

"Bless you, Sheldon," Lindsay said fervently. She happily pushed her files in his direction and took the journal. Of course, since it was Hawkes, what he was handing her was a forensic science journal rather than something frivolous, but she didn't mind. She would read just about anything at this point. Though maybe not an article on fingerprint analysis.

They read in comfortable silence, the only noise coming from the humming refrigerator and the percolating coffee. That is, until Lindsay let out a soft, "Son of a…" Hawkes looked up as she repeated her words and finished the epithet with more fervor. "Son of a _bitch_."

"What?" He couldn't fathom what part of an academic journal could get her this upset. He didn't get a reply as Lindsay got up from her chair and stalked quickly out of the break room. Sheldon stood and followed slowly, not entirely sure he wanted to be anywhere near his coworker at that moment.

Hawkes turned the corner into the hallway to find his girlfriend standing somewhat stunned along with Stella who was in much the same state. They had obviously been left in Lindsay's turbulent wake and they now turned to Sheldon. "It wasn't me, I swear!" he protested. "She was just reading my forensic science journal and something set her off."

"Well, I'm certainly intrigued," Stella said, heading off down the hallway towards the office Lindsay shared with Danny. After a few steps she turned back towards Tessa who hadn't moved. "Coming?"

Tessa looked back and forth between her boyfriend and Stella and shrugged her shoulders. "Sure, why not?" She hadn't known Sheldon's friends that long, but she already liked them despite the obstacles that naturally stood between defense attorneys and cops becoming anything other than bitter enemies.

Hawkes smiled as his girlfriend walked down the hall with Stella. He was glad Tess was slowly becoming an accepted part of the group. Lindsay and Stella had embraced her almost instantly and had taken Tessa on several shopping trips. Mac took a long time to warm up to anyone, but he was at least cordial to her. Danny and Flack would be the toughest nuts to crack, but their kids loved Tessa and Hawkes figured that would be her in with them.

But for now he was just going to head back into the break room and enjoy his lunch. Whatever Lindsay's current problem was, he was sure Stella and Tessa were more than capable of helping her with it. And if whatever had set off Lindsay eventually transferred to the other two women, Hawkes didn't want to be anywhere near the inevitable blast radius.

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Stella knocked on the door as she opened it. "Lindsay? What's up?"

The younger woman looked up with fire in her eyes. "I've been plagiarized!"

"Plagiarized? I didn't know you wrote," Tessa commented as she followed Stella into the office.

"Only academic articles on forensic science," Lindsay clarified. "And other than that piece I worked with Sheldon on a couple of years ago, most of it has been for conferences, not journal publications. Except for this!" she finished, holding up what looked to be some kind of newsletter.

"And that would be what?" Stella asked calmly. When Lindsay got on a roll, whether it was from anger or excitement over figuring out something on a case, it was better to just let her enthusiasm run its course rather than trying to jump in front of it.

"A Montana law enforcement newsletter. Something that's put out _only_ for the law enforcement community in Montana. I've kept this particular issue because I contributed a small article on analyzing blood spatter to it almost a decade ago! And now, that little article has been copied word for word in this, this, this excuse for academic publishing!"

Stella took the newsletter and journal from Lindsay and held it so Tessa could read along with her. It became clear pretty quickly that Lindsay wasn't exaggerating. Whoever had copied Lindsay's work hadn't even bothered to take out a comma here and there let alone change the wording so the plagiarizing would have been less blatant.

"What are you going to do about it?" Tessa asked.

"I…I don't know," Lindsay moaned as she sat in her chair, turned, put her arms on her desk and dejectedly let her head fall down on them.

Stella flipped to the title page of the journal. They were in luck. Showing Tessa the address printed on the page, the two women shared a smile. Together, they each grabbed one of Lindsay's arms and dragged her up from the chair and out of the office. "Wh-where are you guys taking me?" Lindsay sputtered.

"On a little field trip," was all Stella would say as the three of them entered the elevator. As the doors closed, she pulled out her phone to send Mac a text message letting him know why he would suddenly need to cover for two of his CSIs.

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The elevator doors opened onto the plush lobby of the publishing company that put out this particular journal. Stella and Tessa strode confidently out with Lindsay following behind. "Seriously, we don't have to do this, guys. I could just write a letter to the editor or something…" It wasn't that Lindsay wasn't flattered by how her friends had quickly come to her defense. And it wasn't that Lindsay didn't want there to be some kind of repercussions for this plagiarizer's actions. But she didn't want to be responsible for her friends getting in trouble for any reason, and considering the two of them seemed loaded for bear, that wasn't an entirely farfetched notion.

"Relax, Linds, we're just going to talk. Besides, I haven't had a good interrogation in few days and I need to keep my skills sharp." Lindsay thought Stella looked almost gleeful at the impending confrontation as they approached a receptionist who was talking to someone on the phone.

"And I've been bogged down with pre-trial motions lately, so I need the refresher too," Tessa threw in as they patiently waited for the receptionist to finish her conversation. But when they realized that the platinum blonde had no intention of cutting short her discussion of the best nail polish color to go with her new dress to deal with visitors, Stella unclipped her badge and put it about five inches from the other woman's face where it would be impossible to miss. The woman finally took her gaze off of her nails that she had been filing and looked up at the imposing Greek woman, eyes widening when she took note of the gun at Stella's hip that she hadn't bothered to take off when they left the lab. The woman's eyes stayed wide open as they passed over Lindsay who wasn't currently armed but who had her badge on her hip, and Tessa who was wearing one of her best power suits, a black knee-length skirt with a black jacket over a stunning red blouse that screamed money and influence.

"Uh, I have to go Cindy. I'll call ya back." The receptionist hung up her phone and turned to fully face the three women standing in front of her desk. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"You could direct us to the managing editor," Stella said pleasantly enough, but with a steel edge that got across how much she did not want to be messed with at that moment.

"Uh, do you have an appointment? Mr. Preisler doesn't like it when people don't have appointments."

Before Stella could open her mouth and insist that they needed to see Mr. Preisler, appointment or no, Tessa held up a hand. "Allow me." She produced a business card and handed it to the receptionist. "Take this to Mr. Preisler and see if he'll be willing to talk with us." She turned to the others as the receptionist quickly scampered away in her far too high heels. "Sometimes lawyers are scarier to these types than cops."

Sure enough, no more than a minute or two passed before the receptionist returned to the lobby and invited the three of them back to the managing editor's office. "Ladies!" the man inside greeted them. He looked to be in his forties and sported greased-back hair and one of those little under the lip goatees that would make any self-respecting woman gag. "What can I do for a couple of New York's finest and someone from the fine firm of Lee, Sandberg and Banks?"

The man sat against the front of his desk and gestured towards some chairs, but Stella just smiled and continued standing and Tessa and Lindsay followed her lead. There was no way Stella would allow a little prick like this to have a height advantage over them. "Well, Mr. Preisler was it? We have a serious issue with the latest edition of your forensic science journal." She held out Hawkes' copy that had started this whole situation.

The man glanced at the cover. "Oh, that thing? I've been trying to offload that title for months. Let me guess, your complaint is that it's too boring, right? Because I totally agree! Only geeks and nerds would want to read such boring stuff." The man chuckled, but quickly tapered off as he realized the three women weren't joining in.

Stella jumped in before Tessa could, it being obvious that the younger woman took offense at her boyfriend being disparaged. "Actually, my colleague and I," she said, indicating Lindsay, "work at the NYPD Crime Lab, so we're _exactly _the kind of geek and nerd that you're referring to." She paused for a moment to let the man squirm a little. "And our problem has to do with one of your articles. Specifically this one by a Ms. Paikm," she told him as she opened to the correct page and passed over the journal.

"Uh, okay, so it's something to do with blood. And that's a problem why?" How the man had become the managing editor of anything was beyond the women. Nepotism was the only logical conclusion.

"It's a problem because the person who supposedly wrote it for your journal actually stole it, word for word, from something my colleague here wrote almost a decade ago in Montana," Stella spelled out for him, handing over the newsletter.

"Whoa, whoa," the man said, holding up his hands and backing around his desk. "We are a very respected publishing company here. We do not plagiarize the work of others. I'm sorry, but you must be mistaken."

Stella walked forward and leaned over the desk to put the newsletter that the man had refused to take into his face. "We're _not_ mistaken. This is the newsletter that the piece originally appeared in almost ten years ago. If you would like, we could contact the Montana State Police who I am sure would get you a copy from their archives as well. And it's not just similar to what was published in your journal. It is _word for word the exact same thing_."

During Stella's tirade the man had sunk into his plush office chair, cowering like a suspect that had just been nailed for murder or some other serious offense. "I…I…I don't know what you want us to do about it…"

Tessa stepped forward to stand next to Stella. "We want you to send out an immediate notice to all of your readers that a mistake has been made, that a plagiarizer misrepresented who this article was written by, and that you felt compelled to fix the mistake. We want you to assure all of your readers that anyone who would like a new copy of the journal, with credit given where it is due, will receive one free of charge. And we want a long, flowery, written apology to Detective Lindsay Messer for the mental anguish and suffering she has had to endure while watching someone get accolades for her hard work."

The man straightened in his chair a little, trying fruitlessly to maintain what shreds of dignity he had left. "We can issue a retraction and apology in our next issue, but I don't think—"

"If that's your best, sir, your best simply won't do and we're _not_ going to take it anymore." Tessa leaned down and locked eyes with the greasy man. "You obviously recognized the name of the firm where I work. And let me assure you, I not only work there, I'm a partner. One of their youngest partners ever, second youngest African American, and first African American female partner in its long, accomplished history. And all because I earned my way up the ladder by winning a lot of cases, every one of them more difficult than this one would be. So, if our…_suggestions_…don't sound agreeable to you, then we will leave and I'll have my paralegal draw something a little more official up and have it to you by the end of the day."

"Uh, no, that, that won't be necessary," the man hurried to say, obviously scared out of his mind at the prospect of getting sued. He got up from his chair, almost tripping himself. "I, uh, I'll be right back, I'm just going to go get, uh, someone else to help us, uh, facilitate this matter." He almost sprinted out of the room, and if he had been a dog his tail would have almost assuredly been between his legs.

Stella looked at the woman next to her with admiration. "You know those lists that women make up when they're at bars together? The ones you start making after a few drinks about how, even though you're straight, there is a top five list of women you would totally screw if given the chance?" She smiled. "You are now number one on my list."

Tessa grinned. "I take that as a compliment. You would be number one for me as well except that I've always had a girl crush on Halle Berry."

Stella nodded. "Totally understandable."

Lindsay sat in the nearest available chair and tried to hold back her mirth, but she knew it was a losing battle. The crappiest day she had had in recent memory had suddenly become one of the best of her life. She had some of the best friends anyone could ask for and she would be telling them that repeatedly when she took them out for drinks later. She might be a married mother of three, but she figured Danny wouldn't argue about watching the kids alone that night so that she could go out with Stella and Tessa. And Lindsay had the sudden urge to find a place that had karaoke because she had a certain song that perfectly fit her feelings at the moment…


End file.
